


The Family Line

by ReinaWritesStuff



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, F/M, Fix-It, Heavy Angst, Infertility, Pre Episode 4 Fic, Pregnancy, Witch Curses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-26 21:41:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18725521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReinaWritesStuff/pseuds/ReinaWritesStuff
Summary: Dany has a painful proposition for Jon and a secret of her own.





	The Family Line

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I don't even fucking know. I don't even know. But, here's a new angsty fic I wrote yesterday (when I was young and innocent), based on what would happen in the parental reveal if I was writing the series. 
> 
> *SEASON 8, EPISODES 1-3 SPOILERS*
> 
> *No real episode 4 spoilers here*
> 
> Don't leave me troll comments. Just go be a child elsewhere. Thank you.

She quietly drummed her fingers as she hunched over the large, painted table. The flames crackling in the fireplace were the only sounds louder in her ears than her rapidly beating heart. Then, in the stillness of the late evening, Dany heard his footsteps long before he was at the door. She’d sent for Jon through a formal messenger rather than seeking him out herself as she would have previously. With each step she felt sick to her stomach, as she had all day thinking of this, but she ignored it. She couldn’t afford any nervousness or uncertainty when she spoke to him. Not with the message that she needed to get across and the proposal she had to give. His knock somehow still startled her, though she calmed herself and beckoned him in. 

When he stepped inside the room, they looked at each other with a strange mix of unease and desire. Though she was distressed by what was coming, she could not stop herself from thinking back on all of the times they were alone together before; happy, loving, carefree. The memories brought the slightest curl of a smile to her face for only a moment. 

The two of them hadn’t spoken much since they docked at Dragonstone. They did their jobs. Made their speeches. Prepared for the upcoming siege. But, between them was a mountain of words unspoken made larger, specifically, by Dany’s blatant avoidance of him. She knew he had to have been taken aback by receiving a private meeting request from her or any request, at all. 

“There were no guards by your door,” Jon said first.

“It’s not necessary.”

“You wanted to see me?”

“The ships are ready for tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Silence. Thick, agonizing silence.

“I feel like that’s not all you called me here for.”

“It’s not.”

She never was able to lie to him. It was easier with some, some who deserved lies, but not with Jon.

“Are you ready to speak about it,” he asked.

“About what?”

“Dany.” 

Dany wrung her hands in front of her, still looking into Jon’s eyes. Her hands were damp with sweat, but she kept as cool as she could manage. Her dress even felt a bit tighter and more constricted than ever before, but she only stood up straighter and walked to the opposite end of the table. In their distance, they hadn’t taken the time to address the life-altering revelation sprung upon both of them. She knew he begged to and that he likely wanted to hear her thoughts on it, as well. On how they would solve it. And she had thoughts, indeed. Many thoughts. And one solution.

“A short while ago, it was only me. House Targaryen began and ended with me. The weight and responsibility of my family was mine. Alone. Now, it’s not.”

“I know what you’re feeling.” Jon tried to move towards the window where she stood, but Dany took a subtle step back that halted him. He sighed and went on. “I just learned that everything in my life was a lie. A lie told by the one man I knew would never lie to me. Everything I was subjected to because of my status. Snow. It was the mark I bore, and I suffered because of it. As a bastard, I never felt as if I belonged but I knew my place. Now that I know the truth… I don’t know who I am anymore.”

“You’re the last male heir of House Targaryen. That’s who you are.” There was a stark coldness in her voice and a sadness in her eyes when she spoke. “The Targaryen legacy is on both of our shoulders now, isn’t it?” 

Visibly confused, Jon creased his brows and nodded slowly. Dany made her way back around the table, and Jon followed along the other side. Her eyes scanned over all the cities, landscapes and figures carved into it. Features of the home she’d crawled her way from ruin to return to. The map created by the family she would give anything of herself to restore. Anything. The sickness in her belly had returned again. 

“I’m cursed, you know. I have been cursed for a long time, and it’s as strong as ever. I see that now. Cursed to want something, to feel that something within my grasp, within my heart, only to lose it. Lose it when I hold it most dear. It’s a vicious and hurtful thing.” 

Jon, his confusion turned to budding frustration then to clear anger, slammed his hand down on the table, unintentionally but poignantly over the depiction of King’s Landing. She barely even flinched. He stared at her with pained eyes. 

“I don’t want it, Dany! I don’t want the damned throne! I wouldn’t be here, helping you if I wanted the throne for myself. I don’t care about it! I never did!” 

“I’m not ta–” she argued back but was unable to finish. She took a moment, her jaw clenched and tears aching to well up. If she was to really say it, it needed to be then. “Jon, I’m… I may be…”

The words stopped abruptly in her throat.  _ No _ , she thought. She couldn’t do it. She’d played the scenario out in her head before she sent for him. But, there, in the moment – Jon’s eyes pleading with her to make any sense– the words she’d been so desperate to say for so long were gone. And she wasn’t sure that they would or should ever return.  _ It’s not true. Accept that _ . _ It won’t last. Why give him the hope?  _ Dany’s face turned to stone again, re-thinking her next words. 

“I may be coming across incorrectly. I know that you don’t want it.”

“And you know I will renounce it for you. Publicly if that’s what it takes.” 

“Yes,” she gulped and with an inhale, continued. “But, I would name you my heir.”

“What?”

“I will carry our name for the remainder of my life. Should you outlive me, you will continue it from me. And your child after you and so-on. This house will not die again.” 

“ _ My _ child.”

“Yes,  _ your _ . I cannot continue the line myself. You and your child will have to.” 

“What are you suggesting?” When Dany opened her mouth to respond, nothing came out at first. She pursed her lips, trying to keep her composure, and Jon only grew more upset. “Daenerys. What are you saying?”

“There are many maidens in Westeros, who–“

“Dany, don’t,” he shook his head.

“Who would make good wives.” Her voice started to tremble. “Wives who will  _ c-certainly _ have children with you and secure your line. Our line.”

“ _ Dany _ .”

“It’s the only way we can be sure of the future.”

“I am not doing this! I will not do this with you! Not now or ever!” 

He threw his hands up in surrender and turned to the door. Dany followed him, calling out in her defense.

“I have given too much to restore my family! I have very nearly died for it! I will not sit back and watch it disappear forever because of my feelings! If you care about my efforts, you’ll say the same!” He stopped as did she. The weight of her statement was heavy on them both. “I will rule. I am fit to do so, and that I will do for us. But, if the line ends with me, with us, what was it all for?” 

“You would base your life on one madwoman’s words,” Jon’s voice softened. So did Dany’s.

“I have no delusions, Jon. I saw with my own eyes what the witch’s magic did. It can’t be undone, even if…” A breath caught in her throat and sunk to her gut. “Even if, for a moment, it seemed like it could. I need you. But, our name needs you apart from me.” 

Jon walked nearer to her as if to directly challenge her words. There was only an arm’s-length between them when he paused, and his expression betrayed the hurt behind his stoicism. It implored her to reconsider what she was saying.

“That is what you want?”

“What does it matter what I want? It’s what’s for the best.”

What she wanted. Dany wanted him. She wanted to touch his lips again. Feel his hands run softly over her skin. Run her fingers through his hair again. She wanted to take back what she said, and tell him everything. More than anything, she wanted to be wrong about her curse. But, staring into Jon’s eyes – feeling the pull of them bringing her back in and his desire to have her back – she knew that she couldn’t. It needed to be a clean break. To tell him would only delay the inevitable. Dany averted her gaze, resisting the urge to place a hand on his chest, and backed away. She turned her back to him, looking into the fireplace before he could see the tears fill her eyes. Her body was tense as she anticipated some kind of response from him, but there was none. She only felt his eyes boring through her. 

A light knock on the door shook her. Dany glanced over her shoulder and invited the visitor in. Missandei entered, surprised to see Jon present. Dany returned to studying the fire.

“I am sorry, Your Grace,” she said, “I did not mean to interrupt you.” 

“It’s fine. Our Warden was just leaving.” 

The tone in her voice was as stern and final as if she’d shouted for Jon to get out immediately. She didn’t have to see him to know that it hurt him. 

“Your Grace,” Jon nodded, sadly, pushing himself away from the table and leaving.

There it was. The confirmation that she had indeed cut him deep. Once she heard his footsteps disappear, Dany let out an almost audible sob. She quickly recovered when she remembered that Missandei was still with her. The councilwoman closed the door, checking for eavesdroppers before she did, and quietly walked to stand near Dany.

“Did you tell him,” Missandei’s tone was hushed. 

Dany swallowed hard, instinctively placing her hand on her stomach. 

“Tell him what?”

“Your Grace…”

“There is nothing to tell him.”

“The Maester said–”

“The Maester was wrong.” Her voice was louder than she meant for it to be. “He does not know what I do. He does not know about that witch.”

Dany knew the curse well. She would bear no living child. That she was sure of. When she was seen by the Maester, following weeks of sudden bouts of illness, she knew he was wrong once he told her the cause.  _ You are with child _ , _ Your Grace _ , he’d said,  _ There is no doubt _ . Missandei heard it as clearly as Dany had and had urged that she make it known. Dany refused, however, swearing both Missandei and the Maester to complete secrecy on the matter.

She wouldn’t announce it. What was there to announce? Whatever child he thought was there would not live. This fallacy of pregnancy was but another cruel addition to Mirri Maz Duur’s witchcraft. Even if she birthed another babe, she would not hold her child or feel their lively breaths. Of that she knew to be true.

_When the seas go dry and the mountains blow in the wind like leaves._ _This curse is not finished with me. It never will be._

To that day, Dany had been so haunted by her loss of Rhaego. It pained her more than she would permit herself feel. The elation she’d had over the anticipation of raising him, over the reality of her family being restored, she couldn’t let herself get lost in that feeling again. And she couldn’t hold Jon close to her under the guise of false hope when he could find certainty elsewhere. False hope was no hope, at all. There was a chance for House Targaryen after her. She was not going to waste it, though she wished terribly that there was another way. 

“What if  _ you _ are wrong about this,” Missandei said, “What if, somehow, the curse is indeed gone? You have brought dragons back to life. You have survived flames and fought death. You think the child will die, but you do not know. The witch had magic, but what if you are magic, too?”

_ What if _ . 

It all sounded intoxicating as hopeful miracles always did. Dany placed both hands this time softly on her stomach and allowed herself to get lost in thought. Was her child truly there? Growing and healthy. Would she in a short time begin feeling the restless kicks and movements as she had with Rhaego while he lived? Would she hold the babe in her arms one day and soothe the hearty cries with a gentle voice? Was the baby a girl who would have long flowing hair that Dany would spend hours brushing and braiding at night? Was he a boy, brave and kind as his father with beautiful dark curls to match? Perhaps both. Twins could be nice.

_ Neither _ , she abruptly thought again, her fantasy vanishing before her. There was no use in becoming attached just as there was no use in telling Jon. Her child was only doomed to leave her again. 

“I cannot afford to think like that.” A tear slid down her cheek. “I will be alright, Missandei. Please get some rest tonight.”

Missandei nodded, and reluctantly left Dany in the room by herself. She took a seat, staring out the massive windows at the vast, cold twilight sky and the last bits of sunlight left. It made her feel small. And sad. And alone. There was a time when she caught herself envisioning a family with Jon. Against any obligations or curses. For a tiny instance after speaking with the Maester, she’d envisioned it again. So much so that she’d almost felt the little life inside of her before brushing the thought away for good.

_ I cannot afford to think like that. _

**Author's Note:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES:
> 
> \- I don't expect many readers or interactions on this one, and that's fair. The show and the fandom are giving us angst enough to last a lifetime. We probably don't need it in fics, too, right now. But, I just wanted to throw this one out there and get it out of my head. 
> 
> (On a positive note, though: Dany, here, is actually pregnant, healthy and all. And she does end up believing it and telling Jon before it's too late. And they live happily ever after, because fuck you)


End file.
